You know it's the most wonderful time of the year when the plan for the evening is to get Emery to her orchestra concert by 5:30, watch the concert at 6, rush over to Josiah's school to watch Josiah's band concert at 7, and pick Drake up from swimming at 7:30. Because what brings more Holiday cheer than rushing from one concert to the next?
"Mom," Emery said at 5:05, "we have a problem."
"I'm not accepting problems. It's time to go."
"Well, my door locked behind me, and I'm locked out of my bedroom."
I fought down a moment of panic, and then noticed that she was already dressed. "We can deal with it when we get home since you already have your concert clothes on. Let's just leave."
"That brings me to the problem. My violin and music is in my room."
After three calming breaths, I remembered we had a pointy tool used to open locked doors. I grabbed it out of the laundry cupboard saying a prayer of thanks that I actually remembered where it was just when I needed it. I poked it into the small hole on my side of the doorknob, but nothing happened. I poked again. I poked at an angle. And another angle. Then I shoved and rammed the thing in every direction possible. Then Emery tried. The lock was not to be picked.
"There is only one solution I can think of," I told Emery. "Grab a screwdriver. We will have to take off the doorknob."
I would like to state for the record that the screws used to hold doorknobs together are long. Not just kind of long, but so long you can't believe how much time it takes to get them unscrewed. It was like they were screwed all the way into the next room. Which, I guess, technically, they were.
So another concert has come and gone, and I have a new twitch.
"Mom," Emery said at 5:05, "we have a problem."
"I'm not accepting problems. It's time to go."
"Well, my door locked behind me, and I'm locked out of my bedroom."
I fought down a moment of panic, and then noticed that she was already dressed. "We can deal with it when we get home since you already have your concert clothes on. Let's just leave."
"That brings me to the problem. My violin and music is in my room."
After three calming breaths, I remembered we had a pointy tool used to open locked doors. I grabbed it out of the laundry cupboard saying a prayer of thanks that I actually remembered where it was just when I needed it. I poked it into the small hole on my side of the doorknob, but nothing happened. I poked again. I poked at an angle. And another angle. Then I shoved and rammed the thing in every direction possible. Then Emery tried. The lock was not to be picked."There is only one solution I can think of," I told Emery. "Grab a screwdriver. We will have to take off the doorknob."
I would like to state for the record that the screws used to hold doorknobs together are long. Not just kind of long, but so long you can't believe how much time it takes to get them unscrewed. It was like they were screwed all the way into the next room. Which, I guess, technically, they were.
So another concert has come and gone, and I have a new twitch.
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